Inside The Animus
by The Green Dragon
Summary: Basically, a collection of drabbles about the ACverse. All characters, shippings, and whatnot. But, I must confess, they'll probably end up being about Altair and Ezio for the most part. T just in case.
1. Chapter 1

_ "I love you." _

They never say it; but then again one usually wouldn't expect Assassins to. Despite having both of his parents around, Altair never hears these words as a child. He doesn't really miss them in the brief respites between training. He never hears them, but sometimes he catches a glimpse; in how his mother's mouth tilts upwards ever so slightly at Al Mualim's praise in his progress, how his father has a warm look in his eye when he lays a comforting hand on his son's shoulder after his finger is removed.

Years later, little hands grab at his tunic. _Up, up. _His son isn't even five yet, and already he has his father's love of high places. Carefully the little boy is hoisted on high, smiling happily and placing a little hand palm to palm with his father's. Quietly, quietly, Altair looks at the soft skin a few shades lighter than his own and the urge comes to him.

Even after saying it for the first time so long ago, the words still lodge themselves in his throat. This happens to him all the time, so often that the words are not said as often as he would like them to be. To his ears they lack the fluidity and ease that others utter them with. But, Altair does like to think that he has mastered the silent smiles of his mother and proud gaze of his father. Perhaps they will be enough.

...But not for today as his baby jibbers on in a mix of Arabic and French, telling his daddy about his infant adventures. Hugging the little boy tighter, "I love you," he says.

And, awkwardness aside, the "'Love you too, daddy" in response is worth it.

**AN: **Aw, it's a story about daddy!Altair! Because if you think about it, Altair would be an amazing dad. Maybe a little overprotective, but that's kind of justified considering what he does for a living. This is partially dedicated to my Ezio (you know who you are). I promise I'll write one about little Jack, ok?


	2. Chapter 2

Altair was born into the Creed, like many others. And, like so many others, he was unable to leave it. Assassins born into the Brotherhood _stayed _in the Brotherhood, for Al Mualim was a man protective of his secrets.

The bodies of deserters were often never found.

They waged an open war against sowers of violence and discord; the Templars acting as their main adversary. Yet Altair does not hate them, at first. Disrespect them for their misguided beliefs? Yes. But he does not hate them until their blades have claimed his own, people that he knew and (sometimes) loved. And so he kills them, in Jerusalem, in Acre, in Damascus. The who and the where do not matter, only the hunt.

At first he is appalled by the conditions of the Innocents whom he must protect. Relatively sheltered in the incense smokey halls of Maysaf, he is unprepared for the streets of the metropolis. Filled with thieves, brutal crusaders, shunned lepers and other wretches the people immediately evoke the pity of the young Assassin. He is blind to their searing, mistrusting glances and disapproving mutterings as he passes by. It is only years later that he comes to despise them for it. No matter what he does, the people are oblivious to the good that he is doing them. They hide away from him in fear as the Assassin slashes through mission after mission, none of it seeming to have any effect other than providing the washers at Maysaf with a constant supply of bloodied robes.

Adha was the final straw. Her death, though hard to bear, was made impossible by his own brethren. Every morning after for many months brought with it a 'How are you doing Altair?', 'How are you coping?', or a 'Altair, I'm so sorry for your loss'. _Lies. _Everyone knew that Assassins couldn't love, it was against policy. If anything, they were _glad _she was gone, a distraction from work removed. Adha was dead, she wasn't coming back, and Altair _couldn't stand it_ and these betrayers were here spewing their poison all about him. So Altair did the only thing he could do; the only thing he knew how to do. He froze that rage into a cold controlled fury and threw himself into his work; accumulating bitterness and the filth of humanity and blood on his hands. Until, a few years later he stood with his _fellows _under Jerusalem, listening to Malik preaching to him about following the Creed.

And, opening his mouth, he replied with perfect conviction, "My way is better".

**AN: **Ah, it's another one about Altair! This isn't exactly expressing what I think. After all, Al Mualim is the only real Assassin who I would call a "traitor". However, there are some MEAN and jerkish Assassins in the Brotherhood. And, look at things from Altair's perspective. He probably didn't have much of a choice about becoming an Assassin, he has to protect people who are scared shitless of him, and open relationships/ affection aren't really promoted. Being bitter, I can understand.

...So yeah. If anyone has a particular prompt that they want me to write about, go ahead and leave a comment. Actually, please leave a comment anyways, I would love to know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

_"I'll kill you for what you've done!" _

From any other young man his age, the words would have been an empty threat. But, he isn't just anyone else. He is Ezio Auditore da Firenze, son of an Assassin and heir to a legacy that he isn't even aware of. The memories lie hidden away in his genes, the tradition of an archetypal Assassin passed down from the days of Altair. Like the eagle reborn, he fixes his sights upon a target and swoops in for the kill.

Little does he know that this path will take him the next 23 years to complete. But, for now, the bird of prey has named his first victim. Before it is over, feathers will be coated in blood and the truth will be spilled upon cobblestone floors.

**AN: **Thank you for my review! (Yes, review. No plural... yet. *gives readers puppy dog eyes*) I decided that, for my health, I had better not write another story about Altair and his family. (The cuteness is occasionally toxic). So, here is a brief drabble about Ezio! Because, honestly, how many people actually mean it when they say "I'll kill you!".

... And I admit I'm guilty of threatening it a lot. I blame it on having Altair as my alter-ego.


	4. Chapter 4

It was early morning, the sun just barely illuminating the high tower in Maysaf. Life was just beginning to stir below and above, with the villagers rising at dawn to conduct their business, and the birds roosting in the tower flying away for the day. In fact, most were so preoccupied with their early morning tasks that they failed to notice the young man huddled in a corner, hiding his face in his knees as the wind blew against him. Tears leak from his concealed eyes, spilling down to stain his pants an even darker grey.

Despite the soft howling of the breeze in his ears, his honed reflexes were still able to pick up shuffling below.

Someone was climbing up the tower stairs.

Hurriedly, the youth furiously scrubbed at his wet face; dashing the tears away and smoothing out the trails left in their wake. However, he looked far from composed when his fellow Assassin finally reached the top of the turret.

"Kadar?" the inquiring voice came as Malik approached his huddled sibling. Receiving no reply, the elder crouched down before his brother. "What are you doing up here?" he asked.

For a moment, Kadar hesitated. He couldn't think of anything to say, yet he felt desperately that something needed to be said. Already he knew that his brother had perceived that he had been crying, and the hot flash of anxiety and shame overtook him. Malik was a good man, and a wonderful older brother, but he was also a strict follower of the code- and Kadar couldn't bear to see the disappointment that he expected to see in his brother's eyes...

It was Malik sighing and turning away that finally awoke Kadar's voice.

"I come up here sometimes," he began, "before missions." Taking a calming breath that Malik had faced him once more and was listening and attentive, he continued.

"It's just... that all of our targets aren't bad people." Seeing Malik's expression darken for a moment, he amended- "They're going about it in the wrong way! But some of them really do think that they're doing the right thing. And the guards... they're not even involved, but sometimes I have to hurt them too; to get away."

Another deep breath. "But I can't think about any of that when I'm on a mission if I want to succeed. So, I feel sad now. I feel pity now, so I won't then."

The tears threatened to overtake him again as he kept his eyes averted, looking down at the dark grey of his knees. He jolted when he felt a hand land softly on his head, and snapped his attention up to his brother; restraining himself from crying with joy at the look of understanding on Malik's face.

"Alright then, little crybaby," Malik teased. "As long as you aren't late for your missions, we'll keep it a secret." Once more at a loss for words, Kadar merely bobbed his head enthusiastically, and mirrored his brother's smile blearily.

_AN: This was inspired by a picture that I saw once. But, I can imagine Kadar doing something like this- he's such a nice person! (And my favorite Novice, because he doesn't go leaving his flags all around the place.) _


End file.
